Page 82 of Worth the Fall

The screen door slammed from somewhere behind me, and I didn’t give a shit who had followed me out here. I’d write everyone off and only have Clarabel from this point forward in my life if I needed to. She’d never be this cruel to me.

“Thomas.”

Brooklyn.

Apparently, I did give a shit who had followed me out here. I turned so quick on my heel that dirt spit up behind me.

“You shouldn’t have come here with him,” I sneered as red-hot anger filled me.

“Then, you should have invited me yourself,” she fired back like she was pissed at me for some reason. And maybe she was?

I wanted nothing more than to kiss her in this moment, but had she kissed my brother with those lips too? The thought filled me with so much jealousy that it wouldn’t surprise me if I cut myself and saw that my blood had turned green.

“Why are you with my brother? Are you dating him? Fucking him?” I said the last word with as much venom as I could muster. It was unlike me to be so out of control, but this woman...

“I would never do that. You want to know why? Because the only person I want is you, you idiot!” She shoved at my chest, but it was weak, and I barely moved an inch. “But you keep avoiding me and making me feel like I’m doing something wrong. I’m trying to not feel like a bad person for wanting to move on, but when you say nice things with your words and then take them all back with your actions, you make me feel like I am.”

“I was giving you space!” I shouted back before I let her words resonate and settle inside of me.

“Who said I wanted space?” she ground out, her head shaking like I was the most insane person she’d ever encountered.

“You did,” I groaned, running a hand down my face.

“When the hell did I say that?” She propped out her hip and stuck her hand on it and waited. “I never said I wanted space. Did I?” She tapped the side of her head with her finger and stared up at the sky. “No, I most certainly did not. I would remember asking you for that. And I didn’t. Nope. Didnotask for space.”

She kept talking out loud and in circles, basically repeating the same thing, but even if she hadn’t said those exact words, she’d alluded to it. I wasn’t an idiot who couldn’t read between the lines. I was trying to be respectful.

“You said that you hadn’t forgiven yourself. That you still felt guilty over your marriage ending.You said you needed more time.” I repeated all the things she’d said to me at my house the other night, emphasizing the part about time.

“You’rethe one who said I needed more time,” she countered. “Yousaid that. Not me.”

“And you agreed!”

I took a step closer to her without even realizing it. She didn’t take a step back or move away. We were like two magnets being pulled together by some invisible force. Resisting would be pointless.

“Just pick a damn side already, Thomas. Either you want me or you don’t. I can’t keep trying to figure it out.” She threw her words at me like darts, each one hitting its mark.

“That damn mouth.” I took a single menacing step toward her, my chest heaving with our exchange. Our faces were inches apart. I could taste her breath—she was so close. “It drives me crazy,” I said as she looked up at me with those big green eyes.

“Do something about it then. Shut it up. Stick something in it. Jesus, Thomas, put me out of my misery already,” she begged.

Instead of verbally battling any further, I decided to give in.

It was time. But there was still one more hurdle I needed to clear before I crossed this line once and for all and never took it back.

“I can’t do halfway with you, Brooklyn. Not when I have a daughter who adores you. Not when I feel the same way too. And if this is just physical for you, like you need to fuck me once and get it out of your system, that’s not enough for me, and I won’t do it.”

“Just...” She paused before my words sank in. “Physical for me?” she repeated. “You think I don’t want more than just awham, bam, thank you, ma’am?”

“Well, do you?” I asked, needing her to give me the right answer. I felt like my heart might fall right out of my chest if she gave me the wrong one. Vulnerability sucked, but I was already in too deep to get out.

“Are you saying youdon’twant to have sex with me?” She was teasing me. And avoiding the one question I was desperate for her to answer.

“I want you, Brooklyn; don’t get me wrong. I want to fuck you in every way possible, and I plan to, but it’s more than that. So much more. And I need to know it’s more for you too.”

“It is,” she said, but it came out in a whisper, which made me feel like she was unsure.

“Are you sure? You don’t sound sure.” I pushed her harder.